Spirits of the Earth

The first thing she did when she arrived on the continent was buy a coat. A black, leather coat, that fit tight around her torso and reached down to her waist. The kind with the thick, furry lining on the inside and the wide, furry hood. The kind that would be unaffordable in Thanatos. Aisha snuggled her face in the collar, loving the feel of it. Back home they had nothing that resembled this, and not even her lover, one of the Tam-Ma-Baan, would spend his fortune on this. But it was completely worth it. With a matching pair of furry snow boots -- Aisha figured her summer flats wouldn't do in this weather -- she felt richer than the church.

Aisha stopped for a moment, and pulled a map out of the linen bag that hung from her shoulder. After studying it thoroughly, she realized with a jolt that she had to be getting close. Finally; Fell!! Ever since she heard of its existence, Aisha had felt an inexplicably strong urge to venture there. Phocas deemed her a danger/adrenalin junkie, and she never really felt the need to disagree, because it was just too easy to see logic in it. And disagreeing meant she would have to dig for what the origins of this longing was, and digging wasn't something she liked to do. Thinking and self-reflection lead to doubt, insecurity, second-guessing oneself and undoubtedly an overwhelming amount of guilt, was Aisha's opinion. But this did not stop her from doing what she wanted. As always. And the legends about the Chaos magic only strengthened her curiosity.

The young woman scanned the horizon for as far as she could see, because it was still snowing lightly and the sky was filled with dark grey clouds. She grinned when she saw her own footsteps behind her. Such a long way she had come. It was three weeks ago since she had set foot on the ship that took her to the mainland, and now she was finally reaching her destination. Quickly, Aisha stashed the map in her bag again, the adrenalin pushing through her veins, and took up a good pace. She was determined to reach the ruins within an hour.

It was a predetermined path.

It had always been that way. He knew the forest...he would have said like the back of his hand, but it was more than that. He knew the forest like a family might know each other. He knew every tree, every rock, every glade and small creek. He knew the intimate details of the forest, he knew every back path and had the perfect mental map of the place. His memory wasn't quite eidetic it was still very good when he needed it.

The man in question was a young person in white fur clothes. He blended in so well with the fallen snow, even his quiver was wrapped in fur. It also helped his arrows were of a white birch with white feathers. There was barely any of his body that was showing at this time...what was showing was just his eyes, the rest of his face covered by a cowl and a hood, allowing only a person to see his strange yellow eyes. Instead of circular irises, he had four yellow triangles all point at the black pupils. He was a sleek looking man who was currently carrying a bow in his hand, running quickly over the snow.

He had to keep going, he had to make sure that there was no one going to go to Fell. It was a dangerous place, and only those that could not be infected were safe. His eyes were always scanning, and he knew that this was the perfect route, far enough away from Fell but close enough that the distance wasn't huge to cover. He blended carefully, the white fur managed to stay dry despite the snow dropping onto his clothes.

His eyes suddenly caught something though...they caught a person sticking out of the snow like the darkness of the sky at night. Just a black figure standing out in the white snow. From what he could tell, they were at least dressed for the cold weather. They were headed further into the forest though, the clearing that they were in wasn't going to last. His hands were quick to pluck an arrow from their quiver, and he waited, staying still. They all got a warning, and if they didn't heed it...well they would all get an arrow.

The twang of his bow disturbed the silence of the forest, as did the sound of the arrow hitting the trunk of a tree just in front of the person. "Halt pilgrim!" His voice was commanding and forceful, and another arrow was already loaded and ready. "You head toward desecrated lands. I cannot allow you to continue onwards without inspection!" As he approached, he noticed it was a female, which surprised him. Not many women came out during this season to Fell. If she possessed no magic, then she would be allowed to pass...but if she had magic, she would be turned away, and if she fought, he'd have to kill her. It was a horrible thing to do, but it stopped people from spreading the taint.

At least he gave decent burials.

Aisha flinched backwards when an arrow zoomed past her head and buried itself in the trunk of a tree right in front of her, the snow falling off the bark. Oh bother. She sighed and unsheathed her scimitar, turning around to see who her attacker was. An enthusiastic young recruit? A lonely hunter? A pathetic new minion seeking her favour??

The last possibility she considered unlikely, because pathetic minions usually didn't have the courage to aim arrows just past her. Unless it was some way to try and impress her. Anyhow, she was not in the mood to fight at all. Whoever it was that was trying to stop her from going to Fell, he had better stand aside. Unwillingly, Aisha scanned the horizon again, and frowned when she saw something white and furry moving towards her. A Yeti? No, that was most unlikely. As the figure approached, it explained the origins of the arrow as he was holding another arrow ready on his bow, and he proved to be a man. Of sorts. Aisha just stood there as he approached, the hand with the dagger hanging down at her side, her head slightly tilted and a puzzled expression on his face.

"I doubt there is need to worry," she answered carelessly while wiping a few flakes of snow off the blade of her dagger. "I suppose you could say I'm desecrated myself." Aisha figured he would check her for magic, like the rumours had told her, and curiously she let him come closer. He was at least an entire foot taller than her -- like most people on the mainland, but she just couldn't get used to it -- and his face bore strange tattoos, symbols rather than decorative art, like Aisha was used to, and they seemed to continue down his neck for as far as she could see. They were the only thing that did not blend in with the environment, and the fact that he had them earned him some respect. He might prove interesting after all.

He didn't know why some people insisted on visiting Fell. You would think that no one would want to risk the wrath of the Chaos Magic...but every once in a while someone thought it was a good idea to just check the ruins. While he didn't particularly like letting anyone go into the ruins of Fell, he knew that normal non-magical people were safe. He had heard that there was a religious sect that was safe somehow as well, but if they were magic, he didn't care. He'd ensure they didn't go in one way or another.

As he got closer, he had to remove his face mask so he could talk easier to this woman, to explain the situation to her. It allowed her to see his strange tattoo covered face easier, which he wasn't always in favour of. However it would be impolite after all...though at times he believed it would be impolite to allow his face to freeze off. She was a strange looking one, he would admit, though he remembered how he looked when gazing into a still pond. They were very similar...her hair and her skin bore similarities to him. However, her eyes were just normal...while his...were oh so different.

Her words were strange and different to him, they didn't make much sense to him. She was not infected, how could she then think she were desecrated? That didn't matter though, he'd have to see if she had any magic. Then he would explain to her what would happen if she did have magic, and did want to continue into fell.

"I am called Chaucer. I am a guardian of Fell, my sworn duty is to warn travellers of Fell. It is a cursed place, where the magic of infinite chaos swarms and infects all those with magic who touch it. Do you possess the gift of magic?" He asked as he lowered his bow somewhat, though kept the arrow knocked and ready just in case. Some tried to attack, some tried to explain, those that were gentle and peaceful were met with the same attitude...those that were hostile however...met with an arrow.

"Chaucer, hm?" Aisha repeated thoughtfully and let the name melt on her tongue. She had to look up to be able to see his face, and now she had a chance to notice his eyes. What the hell? she thought as she studied them curiously. Never in her life had she seen such eyes, filled with yellow triangles instead of normal irises. She realised she was staring and with a smile, she turned away her gaze.

"I suppose you could say that," she answered his question while she turned around and pulled the arrow out of the tree bark (with some difficulty). "Tell me, do you always warn travellers by the means of an arrow in their back? Or in my case I guess I should say 'almost'. 'Cause when you keep going like this, there won't be a whole lot of travellers left, don't you think?"

Aisha positioned the arrow on her gloved palm, and while the wood decomposed and rotted away before their eyes, the metal arrowhead oxidated heavily, turning brown, until there was nothing left of it.

"And what on earth is wrong with your eyes?" she added as if nothing happened, gesturing towards his face with the same hand.

Everyone always looked at the eyes. The only people who had eyes like his were members of the Arkhast, like himself. It made him feel unique in some way, but it also made him wish that people wouldn't just openly stare at them. He always felt uncomfortable with it, but then again he wasn't used to human contact. Finally she stopped staring and the hairs on his neck relaxed, it had felt almost...predatory in a way.

"It would be the greatest day in my life if there were no more travellers to Fell. If I had been aiming for your back, I would have hit your back. It is a warning shot, to get your attention, and it did." She had admitted that she had magic, and that was not a good thing, at least not for her. It meant that if she was travelling to Fell, her journey had ended.

Of course, she felt it necessary to demonstrate her magic, and that only meant that he WOULD have to turn her away. This was the difficult part, he'd either have to convince her to leave, make her leave and hoped she did leave, or kill her.

"My eyes? They are the eyes of an Arkhast, that is my people. They allow us to see in the dark, to see the heat that people and animals give off, and...there are times when I can see the auras of those gifted with magic. They are not important. You must go back the way you came. Any magic user who enters Fell becomes infected, and anyone who is infected must be killed." He spoke with serious tones as he levelled his gaze to hers. How would this one react? They always reacted differently.

Okay so, his eyes were pretty cool. They would be a great asset to anyone magic- or non magic user. Chaucer -- if she remembered his name correctly -- mentioned how no travellers would be the greatest moment of his life, and Aisha wondered why on earth he had taken up this job in the first place. It did not sound like a fun job. For most people, anyway. Aisha considered the life she would be living, and the domination of some infernal humans and cute little mages sounded like fun. The only problem was that she would probably never be able to relax or have some sort of Phocas around to play with.

Chaucer's voice turned more serious, and Aisha rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you see, I think that is a bit of a problem. I don't know if you recognise necromancy when you see it, but let me assure you, I am a necromancer. This means I have come all the way from Thanatos. THIS means I have been travelling for just about three weeks to get here. In conclusion, you're gonna have to come up with something better than that." Aisha sighed dramatically. "Look, if you wanted me to I could tell you I won't go in, and backtrack for a while, but then I could pick another road to go in anyway, and you'd have to follow me to make sure I don't enter. I'm sure you have a lot of other travellers to 'inspect', so I doubt you'd make time for me. But why don't you tell me something about yourself, eh? It's gonna take more than a mere arrow to kill me."

She sent him a charming smile, and sheathed her scimitar.

If there were no more travellers, there would be no more chaos from Fell, and there would be no more reason to kill. No...they'd always find reasons to kill, but this would be a reason anymore. It'd be one step closer to a better life at least right?  It would mean the Arkmast wouldn't need to continue to train children to guard different areas of Fell. It was a good dream really, it would be nice, he'd have no idea what to do with himself, but he'd never have to put an arrow into a person who's only crime was wandering into Fell.

"Arrows kill all, there is not a person that hasn't died from them. I do not care where you came from, but you cannot go into Fell." This woman was infuriating, had she never heard of the curse of Fell then? "An hour ahead is where the magic of Fell begins. It will infect you immediately...the moment you cross the threshold you become infected. Your magic is uncontrollable, it no longer acts as you want. People around you go mad, animals become rabid, and any mage you come in contact with gains it as well. Fell was destroyed by this cursed magic, and if it spreads, the world could once more be plunged into chaotic darkness. As an Arkmast I swear this to you, if you wish to continue, I will kill you, whether it is before you reach Fell, or after you leave Fell." There was such a serious tone to his voice, his expression held no hint of jocularity to it.

This was a serious matter.

"I do not know everything about the isle of Necromancy, and those that live there, but even you people are affected by the curse. It is real, very real, it is why I was born and trained, so please do not think that this is a lie to scare you. It is a very true threat." It would be a shame if this girl was to die by his hand. She would at least be able to tell him more about the isle of Necromancy that she came from.

"At my camp...I have some books. One details Fell's curse...if you were to read about it, with first hand accounts from my people, would that help?" After all, she just had his word, and he could be lying or telling her whatever he wanted. OF course, there were few reasons for him to actually do so but...that was a whole different matter. The book may not help convince her, but it had good accounts to it, and it would hopefully stop her from wanting to venture any further.

Aisha sighed, annoyed by his arrogance about his aim with a bow. It was not that she doubted his aim, but now that she knew he would be following her and waiting to kill her if she proceeded, she would be on her guard. And obviously he had no idea that she was trained and quite capable of snatching arrows out of the air. That was, when she saw they were coming. It wasn't easy at all, and it took a great deal of concentration and agility, but it could be done.

But well, the guy did seem very serious. And suddenly he caught her attention again, with a comment about books. Books! Books and the promise of thorough knowledge about Fell. Since this had been the reason she had first come here -- to satisfy her need to know -- Aisha was rather tempted by it. Books meant she wouldn't have to risk her life and sanity to figure out if the myths were true. Books meant warmth and imagination. Books meant the smell of old parchment and ink. Aisha grinned happily.

"Well, stranger, it seems you have changed my mind. Please lead the way."

It occurred to her that he could easily be lying, that it could just be a ruse to get her away from Fell, but truth be told she didn't really care. If the books were real, all was good, and if they weren't, she'd simply go back and go in nonetheless. Unless of course, this Chaucer managed to stop her. But she would worry about that when the time came.

At least she was willing to listen to reason.

Some people thought he had been lying, that there were really great riches and old powerful artifacts inside the city and he was just there to stop people from taking them. He did not understand how these people operated, how their greed could be so great that they would risk their lives? They couldn't just leave well enough alone. If the Arkmast had a lot of man power to their name, they'd have built a giant wall around the surrounding edges of Fell. That might keep most of the people out of the chaotic energy.

Now things just got odder didn't they? This woman's face just seemed to light up at the idea of books. It might be...it might be a good sign. If she was enticed by things like knowledge, maybe he could stop her from wanting to go on any further into what he knew...was absolute death for her.

"It is this way." He the arrow knocked in his bow, he pulled his hood and face mask back up and gestured for her to follow. He stuck closer to trees than he normally would, but the point was to make sure that she could see where he was. They found themselves at a thicket, one where the trees were a bit closer than in the forest, and surrounded by large angry looking thorn bushes that were still thriving. Carefully with his gloves and bow, Chaucer pulled aside some of the bushes and gestured her inside. It was almost like a house inside, Chaucer seemed to have created a large spacious room, the trees having been grown in such a way that they protected him from the falling snow, even when their branches were bare.

The large circular area seemed to have everything the man could need...a small mirror, a fire pit, a small bed covered with furs and pelts, he even had some semblence of furniture, such as a couple of stools, a small wood and metal box where he kept valuables, and even a small storage place for pots, pans, plates and silverware. Inside it was actually quite warm, despite the fire pit looking like it hadn't been used in a while. There was enough room for a person of even Chaucer's height to stand in. Along one of the curves of the circular room, some chopped wood had been piled, which Chaucer began to gather, along with some kindling. With some flint and steel, the man soon had the fire going, and began to remove the thick furs that covered him. He was left in simple grey leather pants, and a sleeveless tunic which showed that the strange symbols and runes did continue over his body. "I hope you do not mind my humble home...I hear that city people live in such splendour and wonder...try to...make yourself comfortable."

Well, this certainly makes my Top 5 Most Unexpected Things To Find In A Snowy Forest, thought Aisha while she looked around in awe. It was like a tiny isle of warmth and civilization in a cold white world. Her gaze shifted over the wooden furniture, the remains of a fire, the personal belongings... all the things that made this place a home.

"Are you kidding me?!" she replied enthusiastically. "This is awesome! If I could choose between staying in the city and living here, I would totally move. Then again, I don't think many people here are very fond of... well, my kind. How on earth did you find this place??"

She sat down on a stool on Chaucer's request, glancing up at the thick roof of branches overhead. It had still been snowing mildly when they were making their way up here, but this natural ceiling seemed to be doing a good job of keeping it all out. Aisha unbuttoned her coat, folding it in two and placed it on her lap. She had long sleeves, and she felt like this oasis made it unnecessary to wear a fur lined jacket.

"Have you always lived here?" Aisha asked then, scanning the room for the books she had been promised.

"I am...glad that it suits you...most people I have found don't care for the rustic style." Chaucer didn't really care what people thought about his world though, about his home or his work, but he was happy that someone actually liked his little home. It was just enough for him really, he didn't need the large luxuries that others had, minimalism was fine for him.

"Oh, this is an Arkmast hut...my people made it long ago for Fell Protectors like myself. It's to ensure that we have a place to live while we are out here." He explained offhandedly to the woman. Chaucer was at least glad that his people had thought about this sort of thing. It was good to know there was forethought with his people...though there had to be all things considered. They managed to think about the repercussions when it came to Fell right?

"No, for twelve years I lived with my people as I trained to be a guardian." Chaucer didn't really mind if she asked questions about his life, it was an open book. Well actually it would be an open book to her once he got it for her. He knelt in front of his bed and reached underneath, pulling out a small wooden box and opening the lid. There were some books piled into the small chest. He took out one of the old leather-bound books and carefully replaced the lid. Turning around he strode to the woman and held out the book for her. "This is the Arkmast Lore...how we started out before even Fell...fell. Ahem. Please...be careful with it. There aren't many of these..." Chaucer set upon getting the fire started, knowing that it was going to start getting cold soon. He got to setting up the fire, and using some flint and steel and get the fire going. It didn't take him too long to get the fire going. When he did, he headed back to his bed and sat upon the edge.

Aisha was silent when Chaucer spoke, merely admiring the simplicity and the effectiveness of the dwelling he lived in. His story about twelve years of training reminded her of her own childhood. Of course she probably couldn't compare her story with his, but she too had been raised by masters of her kind for years and years. She hoped Chaucer had had a better childhood than her.

"Thank you," Aisha said softly and almost submissively when she stood up to receive the book she had been promised. She stroked the leather bound cover and held it carefully, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. If there was anything Aisha would never disgrace, it was knowledge and the things that provided it, be it a person, ink on paper or carvings in stone. She eyed the book for a while, anticipating the moment she could start reading. However, a question nagged at her in the back of her mind.

"It's good to see that there are still some honest people in the world," she started with a slight grin, referring to the fact that he hadn't lied about the books. "So uhm... I presume I will not be allowed to leave with this book. Do you mind if I make myself slightly more comfortable over there?" Aisha pointed to Chaucer's bed. A momentary resurface of ethics had occurred -- she realised it would hardly be appropriate to pounce on his bed without his approval.

Of course, even after the twelve years of training he still trained. Twelve years of living and breathing the work that he would do out here, it was second nature. Stringing a bow, knocking arrows, burying the dead, running from here to there, knowing the position of the sun and how to use that to gauge distance and direction...everything was second nature, like blinking, breathing, sleeping. His people had tried to explain it, that it was in a way, that all his people did work like this, and that they had done it for so long, each new Arkmast simply...knew these skills. They just had to be awoken in the mind.

"Of course, we had an agreement, I would not seek to break such a thing." Chaucer was true to his word. Though usually his word was 'If you go into Fell I'll be the one to kill you' but that wasn't the case here. It was different, and it was a bit nicer. He just hoped that all the accounts and records and words in the book helped her to see that Fell was not a place for anyone with magic. That her going there would spell doom. The expansive book of Fell, of how the curse worked, how it infected, how it made people lose control.

"What?" He blinked as he looked to where she was pointing, then nodded. "Oh, yes, of course. It is a much better place to read." He stood up instantly and moved away from the bed, gesturing for her to take it. He instead took upon sitting on a stool, putting a small kettle onto the fire. He might as well get something for them to drink, though, he could only offer her a special nutrient rich tea made from trees to help ward off diseases for the time being. He could always offer a hallucination inducing tea that his people drank for purification but...he wasn't sure that would go over too well. "The isle of necromancy...that is...that is a long way to the west isn't it? You must be a devoted scholar to want to come this far to see a place like Fell."

With a half smile, Aisha shook her head while she sat down on the bed, kicking off her boots so she could sit with her legs crossed beneath her. "You don't have to leave just because I sit here. I'm not so big that I have need of the entire bed, or at least I like to think so." She threw him a playful look. He was a strange man. And way too serious. Carefully, she cradled the heavy book in her lap and flipped the cover. Immediately, the immaculate handwriting caught her heart and soul, and she could feel herself being drawn to the power that was knowledge. Already tangled up in the words and sentences, Aisha barely even heard Chaucer's question.

"Uh..." she started while tearing her gaze from the ancient pages. "A scholar?" She stared at him in confusion for a while, before she realised what he had asked. "Oh. Well, not really. But when I come across something that sparks my interest, I have to know everything. I can't stand not knowing. And I don't really mind if this knowledge comes from books or from experiencing it myself, as long as the sources are credible and consistent."

Aisha looked down on the book again. "You know, Chaucer, even though I am a rather quick reader, I don't think I can actually finish this book in one day."

Secretly, she was hoping he would say she could stay in his little refuge, because then she could read all through the night if he wouldn't mind the candlelight. It had been long ago since something caught her interest this much. The last time must have been... well, it must have been just before she met Phocas. For a moment, Aisha's mind lingered on the possibility that he might miss her, but she dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Even though they were lovers, Phocas did not love her.

"Sorry, I am...restless still, so I would just be distracting." Chaucer smiled at her with a shrug of his shoulders. If he were to stay there on the bed with her, he would end up moving his leg up and down as if following some unheard beat. It would also be nervousness of some kind, he'd never been inside during the day like this...while he did know that there wasn't anyone else travelling to Fell, he still...liked to keep moving. Night time was the time to rest.

"Oh...so you are more of a passionate person following your interests." He didn't sound any less impressed really. A person who just...went out to find knowledge because they wanted to was rather fascinating in his impression. Being able to do that was probably pretty liberating to say the least. "That must be nice, being able to travel at a whim." Chaucer murmured, more to himself than anything. While this was his life, all he knew, he still did like the idea of being able to see the outside world. He'd heard about the world before from people he encountered, usually dissuaded to leave Fell...unless they had no magic.

Chaucer looked at her thoughtfully as she brought up a good point. "I do not have...much company, but if you want to stay until you have read the book...sleeping won't be a problem, I can take one of the pelts and sleep on the floor." The man told her as he looked around the area. There was definitely an area for others to sleep, but he couldn't really imagine them sharing the bed for that matter. While the idea of carnal relations wasn't a new one, she was a stranger after all. While he did trust her in some ways...he couldn't say he trusted her enough to sleep beside her. He did believe that if he left her at the refuge tomorrow while he hunted...she'd stay here. She did truly seem to be a woman of knowledge, so the books would no doubt keep her here.

Aisha tilted her head when he muttered something to himself. If she was honest, she knew she was taking her freedom for granted. A strange thing considering she had lived in a damn church for eighteen years without being able to go anywhere. And then there was the luxury in which she lived. If she wasn't with Phocas himself, he would at least supply her with enough money or diamonds so she could be treated like a princess anywhere she went, and for as long as she wanted. And Chaucer seemed bound to Fell like she had been bound to the church. Aisha remembered the long years between the high stone walls, and though the surroundings were in no way comparable, the feeling must be roughly the same.

"Oh no, honestly," Aisha hurried to say. Though she normally wouldn't complain at all at him giving the bed to her and exchanging his own comfortable place to sleep for the floor, she felt it would be unfair if she agreed in this case. "I know myself well enough to predict with quite a bit of certainty that I will probably be up reading all night, and if you're gonna be sleeping I might as well sit on the ground. It's not as if I need a bed to read. And it's your bed. You have dibs."

Aisha hesitated a moment. "I suppose it would be suitable to offer a reward of some kind, because you are letting me read these limited edition Arkmast books... the reward being more than just me not going into Fell. So if you can think of something you want that I can provide, just let me know."

The life of an Arkmast was a somewhat difficult one in some ways. It was all about being able to handle the loneliness. It wasn't a terrible thing really, he had been raised by only a handful of people, that was to keep him from getting too used to company. Spurning him here and there when he went looking for company helped, it made him to see that companionship wasn't a good thing. As he got older, he didn't see that it was wrong and evil though...he saw that they had been training him. They wanted him to be able to live without it.

It was a cruel thing to do to a child, but it was a necessary thing in his opinion.

Chaucer gave a small smile and shook his head. "You have been travelling and have gone from cold to a warm environment...and now you will be in this warm room for quite a while...you may find yourself suffering from sleep sooner than you think...and if you do, you might want to sleep." Chaucer explained as he thought about it. He knew that after his travellers outside up and down the forest, when he got back here he'd have a bit of food then go straight to sleep. Though he may have been...influenced to be that way. "So I insist." He didn't want that sort of finality in his voice, but it was what he truly wanted to do. It was the nice thing for him to do anyway!

"Actually Miss...the thought of not having to hunt and track you to Fell only to put arrows through you is the best reward someone could ever give me." He had no need for gems and jewels, he didn't need gold and silver, he had all he ever wanted, and would always have what he wanted. "So it is a very fair trade...not having to take a life in exchange for letting someone read a book...I would do that a million times over if I never had to worry about people going to Fell...but if that isn't enough...your name would suffice. I realize that when we exchanged pleasantries you never did say your name."

Aisha shrugged. "Well, alright then. You don't look like there's anything I can say to change your mind." She was usually quite an energetic person, always doing something, but she also found it very easy to sleep late for hours and hours. But he might just be right. She narrowed her eyes a little, studying the strange looking man. He was certainly an odd one. Many a person would jump at the opportunity for a reward, but he sought nothing but her name.

"I'm Aisha," she said then. "I suppose I should have mentioned that before. But I'm afraid I'm not very good company when I read."

"There probably will be nothing no." Chaucer told her simply. He went back to focusing on the tea, adding the littles bits to the kettle and getting it all prepared. He had to look for his cups, eventually getting the little wooden cups out. Everything he had was either wood or stone, the best things that he could have, and the things that worked for him. While he had enough for two people, it was because...well for situations like this. He could very well encounter people that he needed to bring here for help.

"Aisha...that's...a very nice name." He commented, reflecting on the...two dozen or so names that he knew. It was definitely one of the better ones for sure! "There is no need to apologize. I am not...the best company anyway...it has been a few years since I have ever really had someone to talk to for more than...a few minutes." It was true, he hadn't had someone to actually talk to on such a deep space before. This was one of those experiences he didn't get to have very often, and he rather liked it. "The tea will be ready soon, I hope it is something you'll enjoy."

Aisha looked at the book she was cradling in her lap, feeling sad for Chaucer suddenly. (Instantly she wondered when on earth the last time had been since she had felt even remotely sad.) She placed her hand on the first page, feeling the parchment beneath her skin, and then closed the book, putting it aside, next to her.

"I can see what would be the cause of that," she said softly. Aisha had wanted to say something along the lines of that's what happens when you're forced to kill everyone you meet, or play the big bad guardian otherwise, but for a change she decided to not speak her mind immediately. She figured Chaucer knew this very well, and that she was the last person on earth he wanted to hear it from.

Aisha glanced at the tea. She had never drunk tea -- in the church it had been mainly water and milk, and once she came to live with Phocas, it was fruit juices, wine and champagne. "Well, it smells good at least," she said on a lighter note.

He gave a rueful smile and a nod. "Could be how I live really. Could just be the universe punishing me for my wickedness hm?" The last bit a joke, something to try to liven the mood. What he did...it was wicked in one way. Killing people, to take a life, it wasn't a pleasant thing, and it would have consequences on his soul. His people didn't believe in heaven or hell, they believed in reincarnation. His actions in this world would weight heavily on his reincarnation. He would not be human again, but his sacrifice to help save the world would at least get him a peaceful existence. Perhaps a house cat, or a forest bird, something that was dignified but not as expansive as human.

Not a bad life, but if he was aware, it might be a pretty rotten one. Suitable punishment though.

Chaucer gave a small chuckle at her tea comment. "It smells better than it tastes, I assure you. It's more meant to keep strength up during the winter. The procurement of plants is a difficult one, moose meat is good, but it offer little else in way of vitamins." The tea helped to keep him from having several deficiencies kill him, especially in the winter. The trees sucked up all the good stuff from the ground around them, and stored it in their bark. Heating the bark released those good vitamins and kept him healthy. He added a few dried berries to improve the mixture of the taste, but because they were dried...they wouldn't add a whole lot. Still, it was better than nothing!

Aisha did not respond to the joke about his wickedness, as he called it. She didn't think it was actually something to be laughed at. She wondered if there was no way for him to let go of what he was and do what he actually wanted to do, but like herself, she knew he would never be entirely free. On the continent, people eyed her strangely and suspiciously. She had the benefit of having a homeland, a country filled with people like her, but Chaucer would find no such refuge except between these snowy trees.

She watched what he did with the tea, her chin leaning on her palm. With her eyes, she followed the dark lines on his face and down his neck. Impulsively, Aisha let herself slide off the bed and knelt next to Chaucer's stool. "May I?" she asked, her hand a couple of inches away from his face.

His sense of humour did leave something to be desired, but only because his life was a serious thing, and while he knew about jocularity, it wasn't something that he could actually practise. Things that he then might find funny wouldn't be...funny to say the least.

Sense of humour aside though, eyes upon him would disturb him, but not because he looked different...it would be because he was used to being unseen. In an urban environment, he wouldn't know how to deal with it. However, he wouldn't need to go into the urban places anyway, he could simply live on the outskirts...that is, if Fell were to disappear forever and take its magical taint with it. He wasn't honestly sure that would ever happen, his only real hope was that they trained another Arkmast and replaced him. Not that he cared of course, it was an honour to protect Fell.

Chaucer barely had time to notice that the young woman was suddenly beside him, he had been more focused on the tea. He shot her a quizzical look as she moved her hands closer to his face. "You may." He told her as he sat perfectly still, letting her do as she pleased.

Tattoos were a much appreciated phenomenon in her culture, but that was not the immediate reason Aisha was so interested in Chaucer's. She placed both her hands on the sides of his face and traced the lines on his forehead and cheeks with her thumbs, her gaze fixed on the symbols that appeared when she moved her thumbs. She noted his silvery white eyebrows, and gazed at the yellow triangles in his eyes, mesmerized by this strange looking man. Eventually, she lowered her hands and rested them in her lap.

"You are beautiful," Aisha said truthfully, sending him a smile. Compared to him, she could hardly brag about her tattoos. A raven on the back of her hand, a scythe on her upper arm and a phrase on her lower back suddenly seemed smaller than they had ever been. Aisha cleared her throat. "When did you get those markings?" she asked quietly.

Chaucer didn't move, and his breathing was very...very calm. He'd never had someone touch him this way before. It was...it was strange to say the least...it was foreign and odd but it wasn't unwelcome to say the least. He just wasn't familiar with it, and he didn't know this woman. She could very well have done something to him while he was here, head in her hands. Aisha could have just...snapped his neck. She didn't though, and it earned her quite a bit of trust with him. When her hands finally left, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

"I...thank you." Was all he managed to say. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn't really understand the concept of beauty when it came to people. He never really had the time to think about it, all things considered. He was more concerned with getting people to leave after all, he was never really...looking at them. "These? All over my life...they started when I was young, when I was about seven...a test of faith, a test of character." Chaucer explained to her quietly as he looked down at his hands for a moment, one finger going to trace the designs on the back of his hand.

The kettle began to rattle at the moment and he was quick to take it off the kettle and set it onto a rock slab. "There...the tea just needs to sit for a few minutes and then we can drink. You...aren't hungry are you?" It wasn't getting close to when he'd usually eat, he only had two meals in the day, in the morning and at night...but he had seen people who eat during mid-afternoon.

Truthfully, Aisha could have gone on for hours just looking at Chaucer and studying every inch of him, but she figured it might better to hold back and admire him from a distance. And she wouldn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he probably already was. Is that Aisha I am hearing? whispered a voice in the back of her mind. Aisha frowned inwardly and pushed it away, not realising that she was actually considering Chaucer's feelings instead of completely neglecting them, like she usually did with anyone else.

Silently, she stood up and sat back on the bed, one hand on the leather bound book she was still determined to read. "No thank you," she replied, not taking her eyes off the source of knowledge beneath her palm. "I'm alright. I don't eat much at all, really. Can I ask you more before I start reading? For example, what do the markings mean? Or are they just decoration? And are there many more of your kind?"

Chaucer was really glad that the woman had not wanted to see more of them. He wasn't a modest man, but they were holy symbols of his people and it would seem a little odd. Of course, he'd probably still show her later, but for right now this company, having someone around, he had to get used to that, and he was certainly not even prepared for such a thing yet. She was...nice, though her want of death had been worrying...but he understood why. She had to know, she had to find out, and even Death wasn't something that would scare her.

It was admirable but...for her to travel alone couldn't have been very wise. He was surprised she didn't have a bodyguard but...some people didn't need too much protection. He was sure that she would need it though.

"They are scripture of my people, holy symbols of protection and purification. They will keep my soul from being affected by Fell's power, from being corrupted by the influence...and to allow me forgiveness for what I may have to do in service of protecting the world from Fell's grasp." Chaucer explained to her, his voice going quieter near the end. Killing was not something that he liked to do, but it was something that sometimes had to happen. He could not be faulted for it after all. "There are indeed...my people live in secret, but there are many of us...just not in the open world. The majority of Arkmast stay hidden."

Aisha's expression showed a weak, sad smile when he told her about the forgiveness the symbols provided him with. She felt sorry for him in a way, because he obviously wasn't a great fan of what he was doing, but did it nonetheless because he knew it was necessary. Those symbols might forgive him up above, but he was clearly a long way from forgiving himself. She decided not to say anything about it.

"So I might as well have run in to any of them, eh? I guess I should count myself lucky then, because I doubt many others would have been inclined to let me read their holy scripture instead of killing me on the spot." Aisha winked at Chaucer, but the playful smile disappeared soon again. "Maybe... maybe I should tell you something about myself too," she thought out loud, gazing up at the ceiling of branches. "Would you want me to?" she asked then, looking straight in his eyes.

Chaucer had to be hard on himself perhaps, it was the only way to survive really. He didn't need to be coddled and told that what he did was okay, he needed to have the knowledge that it was wrong, that even though it was necessary it was still wrong. He had to be hard on himself, to keep his Arkmasity.

"I wouldn't know...we're allowed to know each other's existence, but we're not allowed to meet each other. For all I know they could be much nicer than I." Who knows, maybe they had different techniques for dealing with people. Knocking them out and dragging them out of the way of Fell's path, or some other strange way. He honestly couldn't say, but he hoped that they didn't take death lightly and killed without discrimination.

It was a pleasant thought, and he could hope that they were like him.

"That...would be nice, I would like to learn more about you." Chaucer had to look away from her, the intensity of her eyes was...well he wasn't used to just looking at people in the eyes so close...or having them see him so close...it was quite unusual and strange to say the least.

Whereas Chaucer found it hard to look at Aisha because he wasn't used to looking people in the eyes, she had the feeling he wasn't seeing her at all. Because of his unusual eyes she didn't feel like they were eyes at all. But she probably just had to get used to them. In a while, she wouldn't even notice anymore.

Aisha stared at Chaucer as a response to what he said. 'We're allowed to know each other's existence, but we're not allowed to meet each other.' The young woman blinked, wondering why the hell the Arkmast were so intent on isolating their guardians this thoroughly from the world, even from their own kind, while burdening them with the task of killing any magical person that ventured inside Fell. Aisha rubbed her face, trying hard to keep herself from saying anything about it, but she knew that she would eventually, if there was not something in the book that was going to give her a proper reason for keeping her mouth shut.

Luckily, Chaucer saved her (and himself) from a few awkward moments. "Of course," she said, still rubbing in her eyes to buy herself some time to get back on the right track. "Well, I'm not sure there's as much to tell about me as there is about you. Compared to you I am rather common. But, I grew up in a church. I've no parents anymore, and I lived and trained to be a necromancer for eighteen years."

Aisha paused, looking at her hands, uncertain how to continue. "After that I sort of joined the army. I was so lucky as to meet a Tam-ma-baan, a sort of general if you wish, and now I'm under his protection. So to speak."

She heaved a deep sigh and pushed her hair out of her face in an annoyed manner. "You know, I'm really not good at talking about myself. If there's anything you want to know, just ask."

Chaucer didn't want to look too much at her because he could see the magic about her. It always looked strange in his eyes, and though he didn't meet many necromancers it always looked...odd. It was dark, and it was light, it was death, and it was life. It was never the same, and he was glad to see that her aura was an even balance. However, that aura was slowly disappearing, and soon it was completely gone. That power he never learned how to focus, it came and it went...but now he could look at her more clearly at least.

The life of a guardian was a strange and lonely one, filled with death and life so easily, so maybe it was why he so hurriedly invited this woman to stay with him, to live. It was better than the alternative. A day or two of letting this woman read books and be around him was much better than having to put an arrow or two in her.

Chaucer started at her intently as she spoke of her life, he memorized everything she poke of carefully. He didn't know much of their world, like the religion of Thanatos, or a Tam-ma_Baan, though luckily she was there to tell him what that was. "Uh...I don't know exactly what to ask. What was it like...the church? What did they teach you there?" He asked her after he thought for a few moments. Chaucer wasn't good at small talk, but Aisha seemed to want some conversation so he'd oblige.

He quickly took the kettle off the slab and poured some of the steaming liquid out into the two wooden cups that he had, handing one over to her after he replaced the kettle on the rock once more.

Aisha shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I hated it. I felt completely isolated, captivated... separated from the world. So when I was eighteen I left, first chance I got. They did teach me my speciality, though... I'm an entropymancer, meaning that I can rot things with a touch, as you've seen. But I'm glad I don't have to be there anymore. And truthfully, I don't use my gift that much."

With a generous smile, she accepted the tea Chaucer gave her. It was still rather hot to drink, so for now she just used the cup to warm her hands on. It was only now that she realised how cold they really were.

"I'll start reading when we finish the tea, is that alright? I'll try and be sociable for a while." She grinned at Chaucer, while trying to find an expression in his extravagant eyes.

It sounded just like his world...just like his childhood. Except he didn't mind the loneliness so much really. It wasn't an incredibly difficult life he found, at least not until now. People came through the forest in groups or pairs even, and he wondered why at least he didn't have a partner in the forest. Maybe that's what the Arkmast was doing wrong. They should have all been in pairs, it's not as if they couldn't have spared it. "It is better to use the natural gifts that you were given than to use magic." His people survived without magic just fine, but some were dependant on it in some way. "Not that I think having magic is...bad. Moderation is good though."

Chaucer didn't want her to think that he thought she was a bad person in some way, that she was evil or wrong in her ways. Moderation was they key, without it...well people could end up like Fell. That wasn't a very comforting thought.

"And I shall also try to be sociable." He told her, a smile upon his face, one that touched his eyes for once. He raised the tea to his lips, taking a small sip, just to test. Satisfied with the taste, he took a bigger sip. "What...what sort of teaching is your religion? Tell me...about what the church teaches you."

Aisha cringed. She wasn't at all that devoted to the religion of her people, and now he asked her to go into specifics. Thoughtfully taking a sip of her tea, she nodded slowly. "Alright.. but you should know I'm not exactly an expert on this. The tea is really good by the way."

After changing her position, sitting with one leg beneath her, she started. "First off, my people worship the goddess Inima. She's the goddess of fertility and rebirth. We believe that no one really dies, not necessarily anyway. Sure, the body dies, but the soul lives on and chooses a new body to be reborn in every time the old body passes on. This ... philosophy is also what allows us to practice necromancy. It would make it alright to raise the dead bodies and use them as workers, because a body is nothing and a soul is everything."

Aisha paused, a frown creasing her brow while she drank again from the tea. "I don't take it too seriously, though," she added after a while. "I can't conceive children, so you might understand why I don't enjoy the thought that a goddess of fertility is up there, controlling our fates in any way."

Raised in a church but not devoted. The iron will of the young lady before him must have been strong if she had managed not to become entwined within the church's teachings. It was nice to see someone with as solid a constitution that he had. No matter what, he was devoted to protecting the world but guarding Fell from all those would plunder it with magic.

As she began to talk of the church, he listened intently, his hands cradling his tea cup. He wasn't sure what to think of it, the theory was good in practice really, it helped them to get through life easier which was always good. It must have been nice, being able to rationalize it in such a way. Of course, he didn't make the distinction really that his people rationalized things in generally the same way so that they could do what they want and still not feel guilty over it.

Chaucer gave a frown at her next set of words, idly taking a sip from his little wooden cup. "Can't you use magic to enable your body to allow children? I have seen magic to many things, mundane and wondrous, this seems like it would be an easy task." Unless of course she was simply...missing that part of her body. He roughly knew anatomy, and he knew that women had...something that made babies. He knew the act of conception and he knew about the womb where the baby developed, so if she was missing that it would be pretty bad wouldn't it?

"I'm sorry though, that you cannot give life...maybe your Goddess has plans for you?" He had to say something hopeful, something that wouldn't make him seem uncaring. He didn't much really, children weren't something that he thought about. He was sure that after he was replaced, he would continue living a life of solitude.

Aisha shrugged, not much bothered anymore by the fact that she would never have a baby. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. I don't really meet many magic users that are not necromancers, and by death magic there is logically just no way to create life. But I guess I'll try to find out if I ever feel the need to reproduce."

She couldn't imagine the act of producing life from magic would be easy, as Chaucer suggested, because the body would need a soul any way you looked at it, and how could one possibly conjure a soul with all its perfections, and imperfections? Unconsciously, she shook her head. It would truly be a miracle if she would ever have a child. If it was simply something in her body that refused to work it might be repaired, but first someone would have to find out what it was.

Aisha had to grin over Chaucer's comment, though. "I doubt the goddess has plans for me. I do not worship her, I never truly have, so why would she care about me? Besides, I don't like the thought that something invisible up there controls my fate, or that everything I decide is already preordained."

She gazed at the painted man. "How about you? Do you believe in any god?"

"You should stay here, there are many magic users that try to come to Fell." Chaucer said with a small sigh and a shake of his head...until he realized what he had just...said. It sounded a little...a little off. "I ah...meant that in a...slightly sarcastic way not that I think you should just stay around here for the rest of your life." That would be boring after all, and he'd never want someone to have to go through that. Ahem.

He didn't understand all walks of magic, he didn't even really understand the chaos filth that was in Fell to a large degree. There was all different ways to use magic as well, it was all very...very strange in his opinion...but people would still use it no matter what.

Chaucer nodded as she asked him the question. "I do...in a way. I believe there is something up there...it may not control our fates or decide what we'll do before we do it but...I do believe there is something up there." It was why he had the tattoos after all. In the service of his God, he would eventually reach the ordained Heaven of his people. He rubbed the back of his bald head, feeling one tattoo upon it...the one that would keep his soul protected. There were many like that of course, his soul could come under attack from any number of things but...this one was to protect his soul from his God's gaze.

If God was blind to him...then what he did would not affect him. "Raised in a church though...and you do not worship...that is different sounding."

Aisha smiled, gazing at the bark of the trees. Alright, she liked him. He was nice, and different, and so was she. She shrugged. "Maybe I will. I don't know, but I'm not sure my presence here is much appreciated. I'm too easy to recognise too, for people who know what they're looking at. Anyway, I wasn't planning on leaving any time soon."

She grinned while she drank the last of her tea and patted the book next to her. She sure as hell wasn't going anywhere until she'd devoured every piece of knowledge she could extract from Chaucer. Not because she wanted to take advantage of his so-called generosity, but because she simply HAD to know now.

Aisha glared at him through narrowed eyes at his last comment. "You disapprove of me then?" she asked sharply.

If only he was better with this whole...conversation thing.

"What do you mean by...you are too easy to recognize? Do many people know who you are?" It never occurred to him that maybe all Necromancers do have some sort of easily recognizable look about them. It would be a little odd to say the least, he never thought of a nation have a very distinguished look but he figured it was at least possible in some way.

Chaucer shook his head and frowned. "Not at all...that is not what I meant. I apologize if you thought that I was being...offensive. I meant that it was different, that it was more unusual. People who are raised by churches are often very devout in belief and worship...at least, that was how I was taught. It is simply a testament to your will." Whew, he was glad that he had smoothed that over somewhat nicely. He hadn't meant it was bad at all, he had just meant that it was...different.

Bleh, that was the only way he could put it.

They talked off and on for hours, the thought of going back out there was lost on Chaucer for a while. He didn't even know that the sun had gone down, the small fire in his pit was keeping the entire thing well lit still. It wasn't as if much lit filtered in or out anyway. Eventually Chaucer had become comfortable enough to remove his shirt, showing off the rest of his tattoos. It was a little warm, that was his reasoning anyway, and if anything he'd have rather been comfortable. At one point though, his keen senses picked something up outside...and he retrieved his quiver and bow.

"Aisha...there is...something I must check on. I will return hopefully in a little while. Please stay here." The forest was no place for someone to go into alone at night anyway, unless that person knew the forest well enough that it wouldn't matter. Armed and ready, Chaucer headed outside, shirtless and armed. He didn't have the time to get dressed, and his body was used to such temperature changes. The man looked like a ghost however, his dark tattoos now glowed an unearthly green colour, almost as if he were a beacon now.

It didn't take him long to find the source of his fears. A group of people, armed with torches, weapons and luggage, heading toward Fell. They seemed like a band of thieves to him, all dressed in leather armours, all carrying short swords, daggers, and a few small crossbows. Their professions weren't a concern to him. One of them was using magic to conjure drinks. An arrow was nocked and loaded into his weapon and he ran toward them to get a better listen to them. Ugh, he was hoping he'd be able to have a peaceful night but...that was not the case.

Chaucer was a pleasant person to talk to. He seemed to know so little about Necromancers and Thanatos, it was wonderful to talk to someone who wasn't prejudiced about them. Aisha tried to be as objective as she could, just generally describing the aspects of her people. She didn't really have a judgment about them herself, anyway. She had never fit in, but she had never fit in anywhere else either. Though this was her first time on the mainland.

She hoped Chaucer hadn't noticed how she was momentarily completely tongue-tied when he took off his shirt. It was odd for her, but she wanted him to feel alright around her. Usually she didn't care. But she couldn't help staring for a second or two at the beautiful markings on his skin. They took her breath away. Aisha was used to seeing body art in the Necromancer's country, but that was nothing compared to this. Chaucer would be pure divinity in her world.

She nodded when he stood up and took his bow, following the tattoos as they were bulged by the muscles beneath them. If only I could look like that... she thought dreamily. And then he moved into the shadows. Aisha's mouth fell open as she caught a glimpse of the glow he now radiated, his tattoos like strangely shaped stars in a dark night. Subconsciously, she nodded to herself.

Divinity. No doubt about it.

Catching her breath when Chaucer moved out of sight, Aisha's thoughts returned to the hut and the book that lay waiting on the bed. Putting her tea cup aside, she pounced on the bed, laying on her belly, and opened the heavy book.

Let the journey begin...

There had never really been a need or a desire to study indepth the different magical qualities of each people. Some threw fire, some controlled the dead, some could disappear and reappear, for Chaucer he just had to know the basics of magic, and after that...he didn't really need to know much else. Ignorance was sometimes bliss wasn't it?

Chaucer had noticed the unusual amount of staring and silence that Aisha had given him when his shirt came off, but he had decided not to say anything. That would have been rude. She probably just had never seen his tattoo styles before. He'd...encountered some people before that had a lot of tattoos before, but he wasn't sure how rare or common they really were. He never...had the chance to ask them really. At the same time, he probably never wanted to.

At least getting outside was a good way to get away from the slightly awkward staring and silence.

The men were drunken to some degree, and stumbling forward at night. None of them even seemed to really notice the fact that a glowing man was on approach. So he head to get in front of them. It wasn't too far for him to go. "Well lookie here! We got a glowing baldy!" One of the men cried out in surprise as they stopped in their tracks. Each one of them seemed to be either tipsy or rather involved in the drink.

"You must turn back. Fell lay beyond here." Chaucer told the men, explaining to them as he kept an arrow trained on the foremost man of the group. He may not have been the leader but he was closest. "We know that! That'sh where we're going! Lotsa treashure up there! We're gonna be rich!" Another man yelled, the other men cheering. "No, you are not. There are magical users in your company. The moment they cross into Fell, they will become infected and spread a plague unlike any other. They must stay." The men all looked around at each other before laughing. "Sorry glowy! Can't do that, come much too far for that. Nah nah, get out of the way, we're going. Nothing gonna-ARGH!" The man on the far left, the speaker found himself with an arrow in his leg. After his encounter with Aisha...warning shots seemed like a much nicer way of dealing with things.

"You will go now. All of you. If you insist on continuing, I will kill each and every one of you." By his God he wished that they would listen to him. There was no reason to continue on. There was very little treasure left to Fell, and even so, it could be cursed...it was best to just let that place lie.

It wasn't long after she'd started reading when certain noises caught Aisha's attention. First she marvelled over how she'd heard them at all, because once she started to read people could talk to her what they wanted to, but replies would be rare. And these sounds were far off, even. She frowned, listening, wondering what she was hearing. It sounded like raised voices, and occasionally there was a dark, stern sounding voice she thought was Chaucer's.

Aisha looked at the beautiful book and the direction in which she heard the voices in turns. Eventually, she sighed. "Alright, let's go check it out..." she mumbled to herself while she tightened the belt with the scimitar around her waist and found her coat.

They never did listen of course.

Chaucer fought like he was a ghost...a very focused and merciless ghost that couldn't be stopped. He was determined, their warning had been given, and there was no telling what would happen if they got infected by the curse. These men had to be stopped, and while they were inebriated, he was sure they wouldn't listen when they were sober. One of the men, the mage who was conjuring things went down quickly, an arrow stuck right into his heart.

Some were apparently not as drunk as he thought...and too many of them were trying to get in close to him. He wished he had remembered one of his other weapons. The situation was easy to rectify, as he dropped his bow and simply held two of the arrows in his hand. He wasn't able to deflect attacks, but he didn't need to with his ability to dodge, and thanks to his boots not letting him sink into the heavy snow. A sword cut across his chest, his ability to dodge not quite as fast as he needed them to be. The blood dripped down and the wound itself stung in the cold air but he was ignoring it. Instead, he put one of the arrow in his hands straight through the man's neck, the other going into his side. Then he took the sword from the dead man and continued his attack.

He was relentless now, the sword moved like water creek, flowing endlessly and never stopping for anything. The inebriated man before him didn't stand much of a chance, even in his leather armour, the weapon cutting and slashing at parts of the body that were exposed. They man would fall with various cuts on his hands, wrists, neck and face. They were finally getting organized, three of them decided to attack at one.

This was going to be difficult though...he was going to have to wait for the right moment, his sword hand moving quickly to block and parry attacks that came at him. Right now he almost regretted dropping his bow.

Aisha had been watching for a while, hidden by the leaves of low tree branches, wondering what to do. On one side, that could have been her out there fighting against Chaucer. And if not for the fact that she was more interested in books than in going to the dead city itself, it would be her. Then again, she liked Chaucer. He was a good person, he only did what he had been taught to do, what he had been bred to do.

He seemed alright for a while, and Aisha winced audibly when he got slashed across the chest. Immediately she covered her mouth with her hand, cringing, simultaneously hoping his beautiful tattoos wouldn't be damaged too much by this. Then things started getting harder for Chaucer, and Aisha knew she was going to have to make a choice. Run. Fight with Chaucer. Do nothing. Even doing nothing would be a choice. But Aisha had already made hers. Out of her boot she fished a thin, short knife. Holding it by the blade, she aimed for the man in the middle, who was attacking Chaucer most aggressively, and threw. It landed perfectly in his eye. He barely had time to stagger backwards; the blade sunk in his skull all the way up to the handle, and the bleeding in his brain would kill him almost instantly.

Aisha swallowed, never enjoying fighting, and quickly jumped forward to pick up Chaucer's bow and pull an arrow out of a man's side. She had never excelled in marksmanship, but the man that had abandoned Chaucer and was now coming for her was so close that it was almost impossible to miss. She hit his neck, not his chest as she meant to, but it was enough to make the man bleed out in a matter of minutes.

But he never stopped running. Aisha screamed when she found herself without arrows and with an infuriated injured man holding a sword to her throat, ready to put an end to her life any second. The girl stared at the blade, knowing that trying to rot it would take too much time, and on top of that a rusty blade could still kill. Flinching backwards, she came to a stop against the bark of a tree, finding herself trapped. Chaucer was out of sight, the view blocked by the frame of the man that was happy threatening her. He didn't even seem to realise he'd been hit, no doubt charged with adrenalin by now. And alcohol. His breath smelled.

"That was a very wrong move, lass," he hissed, a wicked grin on his face. Aisha heard her heart pound in her ears, too afraid to grab her scimitar. He lifted his sword up high, aiming for her heart, and Aisha closed her eyes. Wrong move indeed.

There was no time to check who or what his guardian angel was, but someone had thrown the knife into someone's head and that was good enough for him. With there only being two people now with weapons, it would be much easier for him to overpower and win the fight. The graceful fight returned, and Chaucer dropped low to bring his sword along the legs of the men, cutting and slicing at their legs. When the men dropped in pain to their knees, only to find that the snow didn't quench the fire in them, Chaucer continued his fluid movements and sliced their necks. Two bodies fell, and the ghostly Chaucer arose.

A scream rang out into the forest, and Chaucer barely had time to turn and see that Aisha was in a little bit of trouble. Alright, maybe more than just a little. He had to move, to get over to the woman in trouble. Like a man possessed, he barely was aware of the two men that was in his way, the drunken way they held their swords were no match for him as he deftly brought death to them.

He was quick now, getting close to the man threatening Aisha. She'd see it before he did, the ghostly light of his tattoos illuminating the man's face. As the man spoke, and raised his weapon up high, Chaucer struck quickly. He ran the man through, his free hand raising up to grab onto the sword in his hands. For emphasis, he twisted the blade in the man's chest, causing him to gurgle and cause blood to stream out the side of his mouth. He gave a laboured cough before sighing and falling down dead to the ground. There were no more left, and Chaucer dropped the stolen blade to inspect Aisha carefully, his hand going out to cup her chin as he carefully looked at her. "Good...you are unhurt. We should only be so lucky that doesn't happen next time." There was no thought for what that might imply. It was just something that you said right?

With that being said, Chaucer leaned down and grabbed the man's body, picking it up and taking it to the other, which he began to collect. Each one would be laid out beside the other, arms folded on the chest, eyes closed, and as peaceful looking as possible. This was part of his ritual, to give peace to the dead he had killed.

As the man crashed on the snowy forest floor, Aisha slowly let the air escape her lungs. That was close. It had been a long time since she'd been this vulnerable, and she hadn't even realised it. Before, Phocas was always there with his guards. In the army, she had no need to be on the lookout at all. No man dared touch the Tam-ma-baan's mistress.

She breathed lightly when Chaucer inspected her, unused to physical contact with any man but Phocas. "Thank you for that," Aisha said softly, watching as he placed the bodies adjacent to each other and positioned them as if they'd found a peaceful end.

"Uhm," she continued, gesturing at the odd scene with a frown, "I might be mistaken, but I was under the impression there is no mercy whatsoever for those who try to go to Fell. Besides, they tried very hard to kill you. Why are you doing this?"

For Chaucher, the woman wasn't really anything but...well a woman. Necromancer yes, magic user yes, but after that she wasn't really much more. "I was born to protect after all." He told her with a small smile, before he went about collecting the bodies. It wasn't going to take him long to get them all lined up beside each other. He was also gathering swords and placing them in the ground with the hilts facing the sky as markers, allowing him to come back later with the right equipment to bury the men.

"These men are no longer going to Fell. They have died by my hand, and they must go to their heavens. Just because I killed them, doesn't mean that I cannot help them to the next life. It is respect for the souls, for the dead, for the deeds done wrong to them..." Chaucer explained as he ensured each person had their hands clasped over their hearts. Once they were all done, he stood up and closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his heart and bowing to the dead.

"I will come back tomorrow and bury these men. For now I have done what I can..." He winced slightly as he moved his arms, looking down to his chest. Thanks to the glow of his tattoos, he could see the painful slice across his body. "Shall we go back to safety?" He looked up at Aisha, smiling a little, though he was obviously hiding a little hurt and pain, not just physically either.

Aisha was quietly impressed. She'd been raised by devoted men and women, taught to follow their example, and yet she had done quite the opposite. Never once had she been reverential toward them, because they never did anything she thought worthy of revering. And here was this simple, lonely man, devoted to a life he had not chosen for himself. It would have appalled her if it had been anyone but Chaucer (or perhaps it was just his religion that made it okay), but for the first time she saw charm and beauty in an existence of devotion and reverence to a higher power.

"You're... you're doing a good thing," she said, watching his movements. With her around these men were not at all in need of burying -- a few minutes under her touch and there'd be nothing left of them -- but Aisha didn't even think about mentioning that. Which was a strange thing in itself, because she always said what she thought. Now, she realised it would probably be the most disrespectful thing she could say.

"Yeah... going back seems like a good idea," she agreed, wrapping her coat tighter around herself when she realised she was seriously cold. Aisha followed Chaucer's gaze towards his chest, and gestured at it. "I could stitch that up for you if you want me to," she offered. "I can't really see how deep it is, but in any case it would prevent easy infection."

Chaucer gave a weak smile and a small shrug of his shoulders. "If anyone of these men had taken my life, I would have hoped that at least one of them would have done the same for me." He explained to her. "Unlikely as it may be, I'd hope that someone would eventually stumble upon me and put my soul to rest." He wasn't sure what would happen when he was finally brought down by someone out here, but this was just one of the hopes. He was rather glad that Aisha hadn't decided to use any of her magic to do anything to the men. While he wouldn't harm her for it, it would definitely put a damper on things.

The glowing man looked down to his wound once more before shaking his head. "I have some salves at home that will help me heal and stop infection." He explained to her. right now it was just uncomfortable, stinging a little painfully. It didn't take them long for Chaucer to lead her back, after he retrieved his bow. He didn't take anything from the men though, even despite the fact that they had quite a bit of baggage with them. It would have been tacky, and he had little need for that. Everything he needed, he had right now, he had clothes, he had food, he had simple items...there was nothing that he needed, especially from the corpses of dead men.

Once they were back at his hidden encampment, Chaucer set about fixing himself up. A small earthenware pot held a thick black liquid that smelled sweet. "Could...you help me Aisha? This salve stings a little to apply so...it might be easier if someone else does it." Not to mention, it was a good excuse for a little human contact right? Chaucer took a seat on the bed with the pot and a cloth. "Just...dip the cloth into the liquid and the rub along the wound."

Aisha swallowed and shivered. Where was the careless girl she had been for so long? Where was the ease she had lived life with? Sideways, she glanced at Chaucer. He wasn't material, he wasn't self-centered, he wasn't greedy. Maybe she had been fooling herself these past years. She was having it so easy at Phocas's side; he shared everything with her. His luxurious diners, his lush homes, even his divine body. She knew he didn't love her, and neither did she love him, but that hadn't mattered. Was she truly so superficial that she would sleep with someone for wealth and comfort?

Pushing the thoughts away, Aisha followed Chaucer back into his hideout, seeing him in a different light now. Silently she accepted the task he gave her, and dipped the cloth in the oily liquid. Carefully, she went to applying the ointment to the skin just around the gash, wincing occasionally when she felt she was hurting him.

"I'm sorry... I wish it wouldn't hurt," she said quietly, her free hand flat on his chest as if to find support.

The woman behind him seemed ultimately pensive, but he didn't dare ask what was on her mind. It was more for the fear of asking would lead to an answer he didn't particularly like. Maybe she would judge him for killing those men so...crassly. He hadn't thought twice, he hadn't hesitated at any point, everything was clean and efficient for the most part. He couldn't blame her for judging him of course. It was always a wonder that a people who would isolate some of their own to kill those that would venture into a lost city didn't have a more understanding religion when it came to death.

Chaucer could never question it though, this was all he really knew in his life...at least Aisha was willing to apply the ointment.

Closing his eyes he waited for the inevitable sting. It still brought to question whether or not she hated him. After all it would hurt him still, and sometimes he felt it hurt a lot more than the original attack. However, once she spoke...and with the honest tone in her voice, that particular fear of her hating him melted away. "It's...okay...it just stings a little bit." He told her earnestly, shrugging his shoulder and then wincing slightly. Okay that hadn't been the best move on his part but...it was alright. "You've got to put some in the wound...it'll help sterilize and mend it better than my natural abilities alone."

Aisha clenched her jaw when she applied the black goo to the open flesh. "I wish I had healing magic instead of death magic," she muttered to herself, imagining to heal Chaucer just with the touch of her hand. A much better alternative then decaying him. When she was certain every inch of the wound and the skin around it was covered with a thin layer of the cream, she leaned her hands on her knees.

"You should probably put a bandage around that," she commented. Aisha helped herselfout of her jacket and removed the belt with the scimitar in the scabbard from her waist. They were a bother right now. She left them on the floor, next to Chaucer's stuff.

"Why -- why would you want to die if you are doing what you believe in?" she asked suddenly.

One of Chaucer's eyes closed in a wince as she applied the paste to his wound. "We have...the salve, not to worry..." He wouldn't be particularly comfortable with her using magic on him anyway. He'd rather use the painful stinging salve than allow her to heal him with magic. It was nothing against her of course, but it was just...better to let the natural world heal him instead.

Much more comfortable.

"A good idea..." He had to rummage for the cloth he used, but soon he was wrapping a long white bandage around his chest. While he didn't need to have one, it was better not to argue with her on this point. It was just better to agree and do as he was told.

"Hm? Are you asking me personally or...is this just a general question?" He sat upon a stool as he faced her, an eyebrow raised. "Because I do not wish to die. I just wish that I didn't have to live this life...if it were possible to just remove Fell so that no one has any reason to come here...that no one needs to die from my hand."

"What an odd answer," Aisha mused while she sat back and watched the painted man. Such paradoxes in a single man. If this had been her life, she would probably never have let anyone force into living it this way. The way Chaucer had talked about it, it didn't seem like it was very heavy indoctrination he had endured, but it had been rather a conscious process that he accepted for one reason or the other.

"You don't HAVE to live this life," Aisha said with an open expression on her face. "I mean, removing Fell's curse altogether seems unlikely to me, but would there be anything to stop you from living an ordinary life? Or at least a life without the ungrateful job of killing everyone who poses the smallest threat?"

She paused for a moment, for some reason hoping he would see her point. "How old are you anyway?" Aisha asked then with a slight frown. "Don't you think you've sacrificed enough of your life right around now?"

"Thank you...I think." Chaucer wasn't really sure what was going on...that question was definitely odd, and it seemed to have helped her to understand...something. He couldn't be sure what it was but...he was sure that it was an interesting one. He didn't mind her asking such philosophical questions...he could match wits, or at least try, though he would admit his spirituality was pretty locked, his theology definitely...kept him in one particular mindset usually.

Her newest argument didn't really do anything to dissuade him. It wasn't....this was his life. This is what he was trained for, raised for, born for! He had to live here to protect the world, and he definitely did not mind it. Well...he sort of did but...he knew how important this was so...it helped him a little bit. He never really thought on this loneliness until this woman came along.

Life had been so much easier before. Now he was questioning himself...no...questioning his life...and that scared him just a little bit to say the least.

"Twenty six but...my people life for a long time so it's alright." Chaucer didn't look at her, he made sure to look downward at the floor, trying to avoiding her gaze. "With all that I have done, all the people whose lives that I took...I must stay here. Penance for the sin of taking lives." If he stayed here all his life...he would eventually make up for all that he had done in his life. "Besides, I have no place to go, I have no knowledge other than what I have been trained to do here. I am sure that I would not survive very long without...this life I have here."

Aisha's expression betrayed nothing as Chaucer told her his vision on his own life, but within she was writhing in horror. She couldn't imagine living a life like his except for someone who was completely void of emotion, but Chaucer seemed anything but that.

"So you would do penance for the sin of murdering people by murdering more people?" she stated harshly. "Seems a bit of a contradiction if you ask me. And you wouldn't be the first person who goes somewhere they've never been before. And you wouldn't have to be alone, I could help you in the beginning."

Aisha couldn't really explain herself. She didn't usually care what others did or didn't do with their lives, but she just couldn't get herself to NOT care. And she was rather offensive, too. That only happened when someone attacked her physically, never in words. She said things the way she found them, yes, but she always spoke from her own perception, not to intentionally hurt others with her words.

She swallowed and stood up, moving back to the bed to take the book in her lap once more. "I think I'll read my bribe now," she muttered while flipping the cover.

"It...is a very circular logic I will agree." You never kill until you come to watch the forest near Fell, then when you're here, you end up killing people, and that locks you into it. Chaucer knew it was harsh, but they couldn't just have their guardians and protectors leaving could they? They had to find a way to get people to stay, and guilt was a powerful motivator, one of the greater ones too. So was the fear of karmic and divine retribution, inescapable torture in a pit of hell. So...to stay and guard Fell was the perfect way to cleanse one of those sins.

The tattoos also helped a little bit.

Chaucer tried to ignore the last bit of what she had said. The idea of her being with him so much was...worrying as well. He had to admit, she was nice and friendly, and wasn't like most people who came to Fell but...he still wasn't sure if this was right, or if he should listen to talk of leaving. This was his life, and while the idea of going out into the world with an exotic woman like Aisha was very tempting...he just didn't know if he could.

"That is...probably a good idea." Chaucer moved about awkwardly to the other side of the bed, taking his stool with him and cleaning up the salve and bandages. He didn't understand why she wanted to get so involved...to him it made little sense. This wasn't her life, she wasn't affected by it...was she? After much silence, Chaucer looked up from the fire toward her. "Why do you care about what I do?" He asked her in a gentle and honestly inquisitive tone. It wasn't scathing or hurtful, it wasn't meant to be mocking, he genuinely wanted to know.

Aisha had just decided to mind her own business and was quietly picking up reading where she left off, when that question came. She had asked herself about it multiple times now, the lack of an answer puzzling her more and more each time. It took a moment before she sighed and looked up from the brownish pages.

"I... have no idea," she admitted, fearlessly looking in Chaucer's eyes. "I don't usually care about what other people do or don't do, as long as they don't get in my way. I don't even bother trying to find out what Phocas does when I'm--"

Aisha stopped in the middle of her sentence, concluding Phocas might not be the best subject to bring up. "What I'm trying to say, is that you're one of a kind, and something inside me wants to treat you that way. Or... something like that. I just don't know."

A light blush covered her cheeks, and quickly she turned back to the book. Books were safe. Books didn't laugh when you said stupid things. Books didn't see you flush. Aisha sighed. Maybe she should never have come here.

It was definitely something that she didn't want to answer, but really he had to know. What made her want to...try and 'save' him. He was already saved technically...well, not fully saved...but when he died he would at least go to his creator. That wasn't a terrible thing really, he was at least secure in the knowledge he'd go to his maker and be at peace when he died.

He raised a slim eyebrow at her as she spoke of how he was...that she thought something made her want to treat him that way. It was a pretty strange thing to say the least, but...it made him blush ever so slightly as well. He wouldn't lie, that sounded sort of...flattering. He didn't have too much of an ego really, he was confident in his skills, confident in his abilities, but it wasn't because he had a large head.

"Who was...Phocas? Who was he to you too?" He sounded like he might have been important after all, but at the same time...if he really was, wouldn't he be here? It didn't make too much sense but...he might as well ask.

"If you don't want to talk of him, then...don't but...I would like to hear more about you." After all, she knew so much of him, but he had very little idea as to what her life was like. He knew about the church but...he didn't really know who this...Phocas was. It sounded personal and he knew it might be a touchy subject from the way she skirted around his name.

Aisha clutched the cover of the book as if it would save her from answering yet another awkward question, but of course it didn't. She had no idea what Chaucher's vision on love and all things connected was, but no doubt it was different then hers. And the weird thing was that she actually cared about what he would think. But not telling him would be a worse idea... or so an ominous feeling in her gut told her.

"Phocas is... the man I've been living with for the past three years," Aisha sighed. Let's see if he still wants to hear more after this, she thought both cynically and fearfully. "He's what you would call a general of the army in Thanatos, and he has a wife whom he absolutely despises. So he was in need of a mistress, and after 18 years in a damn church I was happy to oblige."

She said it as if she didn't care what Chaucer would think, but her eyes, looking away from him and at the floor, betrayed her discomfort, that and her voice, which was just a little too harsh to be careless.

It would take an idiot to miss the fact that this was an incredibly sensitive line of questioning. He wasn't sure why, he had no idea that she feared what he may think, positive or negative. In truth he didn't understand why his opinion would mean so much to her. He was just someone that had stopped her from making a terrible mistake, and bribed her into visiting his house and giving her a book to read.

No big deal right?

Now, Chaucer understood what the word wife meant, and mistress, but the concept of marriage wasn't really there for him. He understood a union of love, and he also understood, vaguely, the idea of lust and finding an outlet. Of course, he had never met a mistress before, and he couldn't say with any undue certainty that it was supposed to mean a lot to him. It seemed to mean a lot for her though.

"So...did he love you, or was it purely out of need for sexual release?" He really didn't know much about it, he'd never been in love after all. There had been some twinges once in a while, deep inside of him that he ignored at times when he saw a particularly beautiful looking woman. There was no need to explore such things though.

Aisha thought about it. In the beginning, she had thought she was falling for Phocas, but after a while that passed. She had searched the darkest corners of her soul, but there wasn't one spark of what she thought was love for him, and she was quite sure he felt the same way about her. Slowly, she shook her head.

"No... no love. We just have similar interests, and I suppose we enjoy each other in bed... But I never loved him and he never loved me. I'm not sure he's even capable of love. It's just a ... mutual understanding, I think. We let each other go and don't bother with the things the other one does. I know he has to see his wife every once in a while, since he has a duty to produce heirs, but I really can't care any less about that."

She felt better now that she saw that Chaucer apparently wasn't judging her. "And I know he's just using me, don't worry. But I'm using him too, and he knows that as well. He has someone who will always be there when he needs them, someone who won't be troubled with pregnancies, and I have a very comfy place to live and all the money I could ever need. And my freedom," Aisha added. It was heaven compared to the first 18 years of her life, but often she forgot there was more to life than just comfort and wealth. Something occurred to her.

"So tell me, do you Arkmast people just drop from the sky? Cause if you are forced to live in solitude, how do you ever reproduce?"

It took her a moment to speak up, and Chaucer waited. If it was going to be a difficult thing to talk about, she could take as long as she wanted. He sat there patiently, eyes staring intently at her. The yellow triangles that were his irises grew larger and smaller, dilating slightly in the flickering light of the fire.

He wasn't surprised that she didn't love this Phocas. Love was supposed to be special as he understood it. It was a deep thing, and therefore it would be a rare feeling to have. She was a nice enough woman though, she he hoped that she found someone to love eventually. That would be a nice thing right? It was still a little sad that she was unable to have children, but at least it was to her advantage in such a relationship. She wouldn't have to worry about creating any children that may not be loved or cared for.

"I do not worry about that." Chaucer told her simply. He didn't care if she was being used, or if he was using her. She didn't seem altogether unhappy about it so that was just fine. As long as the two of them hadn't been hurt by their actions and feelings then...there was nothing wrong.

"Don't be silly. When I am to die, I pray really hard and I burst into flames, then a new Arkmast crawls from the ashes." He teased, looking at her with a sly smirk. "We are not all isolated. We have...underground colonies where Arkmast live mostly normal lives. They are scattered all around Fell, so they can train new Guardians like myself. Some parents give away their children to the Masters for training, while others just...grow up and lead normal lives. It is a very small percentage that become guardians, so we will not a dying people." He explained carefully, as best as he understood it when it had been explained to him. Not all of it made sense when he was younger but...as time went on, it made a lot more sense.

Hmm, Aisha thought pensively. It was easier talking to him about sensitive subjects like these than she had imagined. Perhaps he wasn't so much extremely conservative as ignorant of the world outside his own. She wondered if he would ever be with a woman, with how much he lived in isolation. There probably wouldn't be anyone who wanted to spend eternity in this place with him, but if he stepped over his own borders... who knew what he might find.

The girl pitched her ears when Chaucer started about the underground colonies. Immediately all her muscles flexed and her eyes went wide. Oh, what she wouldn't give to go there with him! She tried to swallow her enthusiasm, but it came bubbling right up again.

"Tell me more!" Aisha blurted before she could stop herself, unaware that she had gotten to her feet with dazzling speed. "I-I mean... Please tell me more. I want to know everything."

Chaucer needed the proper motivation to leave. He'd have to find a way to contact his people and tell him that he would be gone...Would he have to lie? He didn't want to be known to his people as a deserter, as someone who left their sacred duty. It would have to be something big and something very personal that made him leave, that made him leave the service of his people.

Who knew what that might be of course.

Chaucer gave a very sudden and surprised start when suddenly Aisha was at her feet, excitement in her eyes, and a very enthusiastic tone in her voice. It was...incredibly confusing to say the least, and he could only blink in mild confusion at her. "That...is a lot to know, and a lot to tell...but I can try to tell you as much as I know." Chaucer closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to think hard about what he would say.

Gathering what knowledge he could remember, he opened his eyes and smiled. "All right...well, as I said, my people live underground. We...live normally I suppose. From what I hear, it isn't different from any other place. My people gather food on the surface, and have found ways to grow crops underground...at least some crops. It is a humble life, but we have some semblance to the outside world I'm told. We live in fired clay or dirt structures that hold the heat and the cold well, depending on the season. Most people will grow up and die in their colony, but there are those like me who are chosen by the masters. They are...teachers of the guardians...they have been around for many...many years. They pass their knowledge to only two kinds of people...Guardians, and those who would become new Masters in their place." It sounded really boring to say honestly.

He hoped that she didn't mind that sort of thing. His world hadn't been incredibly complex, well...until he became chosen for a guardian anyway.